


how may I serve you?

by CaliforniaStop



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, I mean also I guess there are elements of non-con if u think about Viren being possessed, I wrote this before S3 and worked on the premise that Viren was a physical intermediary for Aaravos, Mirror Sex, Multi, anyway, marge simpson voice: I just think they're neat, weird threesome ahoy!, yeah........................
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25963417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliforniaStop/pseuds/CaliforniaStop
Summary: a series of short, semi-connected vignettes ft. viren, (female) reader, and aaravos (aka I just have a lot of specific kinks about mirrors and old lonely men ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
Relationships: Aaravos (The Dragon Prince)/Reader, Aaravos/Viren/Reader, Viren (The Dragon Prince)/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	1. i

You had been warned that your insatiable curiosity was going to get you in trouble one day and when the Regent’s men came for you, you realized it had all finally caught up with you.

The kingdom was in dire straits: the king was dead, the prince presumed so, and blood-thirsty elves massing on the border. It was to be expected, then, for everyone to be on edge. Still, that didn’t bring you any comfort as you lay slumped against the wall in the cold, dark dungeon with your wrists shackled so tightly you could hardly feel your fingers.

From somewhere beyond the darkness you heard the steady beat of something against stone: footsteps, you could tell as they got closer, punctuated by the regular clack of a staff. The heavy door swung open, allowing a shaft of dim torchlight to spill into the room for only a moment before your visitor shut the door again and locked it.

You struggled to get your feet under you as you heard your visitor moving around in the darkness. You heard the scrape of something against the stone floor, gentle clattering, and finally the snap of fingers and the soft hiss of fire as it appeared from nothing. In the flickering light, you saw Viren’s face, drawn and tired, though his eyes were as black as pitch from lid to lid. He lit a candle with a deft flick of his wrist and the light pushed back the shadows to the corners of the room.

“I apologize about the delay,” he said in a disconcertingly polite tone.

You winced as your eyes adjusted from the darkness. Viren busied himself with a tray bearing a wine goblet, a bowl, and a long ornate knife. Satisfied with the arrangement, he began to move something from the corner of the room: a tall, wide shape hidden behind a draping sheet. He shifted it until it stood directly in front of you and then removed the sheet and you could see a mirror, its gilt frame engraved with strange sigils.

Instead of your own frightened reflection, though, you saw _into_ another room. Spacious and well-appointed, it appeared to be a study of some kind. The walls were lined with shelves of books—hundreds of books—and a wide desk laden with strange instruments, only some of which you recognized from your studies. Behind the desk, tall windows gleamed and shone with strange light, like precious gems. A fire crackled in a hearth beyond the looking-glass, which made you realize that there was _someone_ in the room.

Viren said nothing to you as he stared into the mirror. You could see, in the candlelight, where his cheeks were so grey they were almost blue, and cracked through with dark veins. You had heard about the toll dark magic took on its users and, perhaps, Viren was paying the price for his own dabbling in the dark art.

“What are you doing?” you asked, needing to break the unbearable silence.

Viren looked at you. His eyes gleamed like freshly polished jet. He held up one finger to silence you and then pointed to the mirror.

You watched, transfixed, as a door opened and a cloaked figure entered the room beyond the frame. Tall, moving with a regal sort of grace, they crossed to one of the bookshelves and began idly skimming the spines. It was as if they didn’t know you were watching them. For a moment, you just stared as this strange mirror-figure move around the room, completely oblivious to both you and Viren.

And then, the figure looked at you.

They looked _directly_ at you.

You felt panic twist around your heart as their eyes fixed on yours through the mirror, across whatever dimension separated the two of you. The figure came right up to the mirror, filling the frame. From behind its cowl you could see a pair of shining golden eyes and a smirking mouth. Then, the figure lifted a hand to remove its hood and you gasped.

“Yes,” Viren said, “I found her for you.”

You had read enough lore—even badly translated literature—to recognize the mythic Aaravos who stood opposite you in the mirror. Without his hood, his wild moonlight-colored hair fell to his shoulders in waves, and two distinctive horns curled from his skull. His skin was a rich, celestial blue and speckled with a gleaming constellation of starlight-like freckles. They were most prominent on his sloping cheekbones, giving him an overwhelming beauty, though his eyes remained fixed on yours with a dark slyness and his smirk only deepened.

Aaravos tilted his head to look at Viren.

Viren was intently silent, as though listening to a conversation you could not hear, and then he inclined his head and lifted the wine goblet from the tray and turned to you.

“He wants to speak to you,” Viren said, “but certain—rituals must be performed in order for that to happen.”

You turned your face away from the goblet but Viren gently caught your jaw in his hand and brought the rim of the cup to your lips. He forced the wine down your throat and it burned and made you immediately dizzy. As you sputtered, fighting to catch your breath, you saw Aaravos watching you keenly, his smirk softening slightly at the edges.

Next, Viren held up the knife. With your wrists shackled you couldn’t pull away as he snatched your hand in his and dragged the edge of the blade over your palm. You cried out as the fresh wound burned and stung, and Viren squeezed your hand to bring fat beads of blood to the lip of the cut. He held the bowl under your hand and caught the droplets as they slipped down your palm and fell from your wrist. The contents of the bowl smoked and sizzled as your blood touched them.

You trembled, screwing your eyes shut, unable to think of anything but the hot throbbing pain in your hand.

Suddenly, you felt Viren’s mouth on your palm. You snapped open your eyes and stared, breathing hard, almost numb with disbelief, as his tongue laved at the wound and licked away the sticky trail that dripped to your wrist. Over Viren’s shoulder you watched Aaravos.

The elf’s eyes had darkened to a molten shade and his smirking lips were parted, ever so slightly, as he watched Viren tend to your injury. He lifted his hand to show you where he had cut his palm: a thin white line marring his otherwise unblemished skin. He lifted his hand higher and nudged the tip of his pointed ear with his finger.

“What—what does that mean?” you asked, breathless, shifting your gaze back to Viren, who pulled away from your hand and licked at his red-smeared teeth.

“This next part is… unpleasant,” Viren answered, moving back to the tray with the bowl in his hands.

You couldn’t see what was happening. You looked to Aaravos again, who licked slowly at his lips, the way Viren had done.

It was as if he could taste your blood, but you knew that was impossible—he was stuck in the mirror.

When Viren turned around to you again he had a worm perched delicately on the back of his hand. It was fat, coloured a rich purple, and had an interesting pattern on its head reminiscent of Aaravos’ horns.

“Don’t be scared,” Viren murmured, and he pinched the worm between his fingers and leaned in to set it gently on the shell of your ear.

You squealed and writhed in disgust and heard a deep, purring chuckle in your ear. “ _Come, now_ ,” the same deep voice said, “ _surely you don’t find me_ that _repulsive?_ ”

It wasn’t Viren’s voice. You looked at the mirror. Aaravos grinned at you and nodded.

“ _Yes_ ,” he said, “ _you can finally hear me._ ”

His voice was rich and resonant, oddly soft in your ear but as dark as black velvet. He stepped closer to the mirror’s edge and tilted his head to look at you.

“ _You’re curious about me, aren’t you? You can answer, you know. I can hear you perfectly_.”

“I—” You swallowed. “I didn’t think you were real.”

Aaravos chuckled again. The sound of it tingled along the length of your spine and brought a warm flush to your cheeks.

“ _I’m_ very _real_ ,” he assured you.

“What do you want?” you asked, wincing as the salt of your nervous sweat stung the wound in your palm.

“ _Well_ ,” Aaravos said, dropping his voice to a purring rumble, “ _I confess: I’m curious about you, too._ ”

Viren came close again and tucked his hand beneath your chin, lifting your face to the light. Lifting it towards the mirror for Aaravos to inspect. He hummed; you all but shivered at the closeness of the noise, thrumming right against your ear.

“ _Aren’t you lovely,_ ” he declared, finally. “ _I didn’t think a human could pique my interest so but… I’ve been alone for a long time_.”

Viren’s hand swept down your throat and brushed over your leaping pulse.

“ _Nervous, are we?_ ” Aaravos teased.

It took you a moment to realize that Aaravos could feel everything Viren could, through some arcane bond, perhaps the same one that allowed you to hear Aaravos’ voice.

“ _He’s been a good and faithful servant_ ,” Aaravos said, sparing a short glance at Viren. “ _He brought you to me_. _I apologize about the knife, but it was necessary._ ”

At some unspoken direction, Viren caressed your cheek with his free hand, trailing his fingers along your jaw. You heard Aaravos sigh, his eyes fluttering shut.

“ _Do you know how long it has been,_ ” he asked tightly, “ _since I’ve touched another? Since I’ve felt another’s warmth?_ ”

You shook your head.

“ _Longer than you can comprehend_.”

Viren snapped his fingers and one of your shackles opened.

Aaravos’ voice was low and strained in your ear. “ _If you touch him_ ,” he said, “ _I’ll feel it_.”

You kept your eyes on the mirror as you reached out and laid your hand to Viren’s cheek. You expected it to feel weathered and lined, expected to feel the scratch of his facial hair against your hand, but instead you felt smooth, warm flesh.

In the mirror, Aaravos leaned his cheek into nothing, his eyes half-lidded and simmering with a low heat. His breath purred in your ear and you felt an answering ache between your legs as Viren pressed himself against you.

Nothing you had read in all your books could have prepared you for this, for being able to _touch_ Aaravos without really touching him.

“You’re lonely,” you said, skimming your thumb over Viren’s mouth and watching Aaravos’ lips part in longing. 

He groaned in your ear. “ _Loneliness is a… strange concept. I have never felt lonely—only alone._ _But when I realized you wanted to know me I felt… something. A pull. A reminder, I suppose, that I_ am _lonely_. _It is terrible, isn’t it? You’re lonely too, aren’t you, otherwise you would never have sought me out._ ”

Again, your cheeks warmed. His tone had become sly again, his lips curled with a smirk at the edges. The constellation of sparkling freckles scattered across his face and arms gleamed all the more brightly for the dark hue that flushed his skin. Your touch was affecting him.

“ _I wonder_ ,” he purred, “ _why_ did _you seek me out…_ ”

“I was curious,” you said, turning your face away as Viren leaned in to kiss your throat. Even when you stroked his head, you felt Aaravos’ pointed ear and long, soft hair under your fingertips. You looked at Aaravos from beneath your lashes. “Why did _you_ seek me out?”

Aaravos hummed. You arched in Viren’s embrace as he grasped your waist hungrily, trying to slide his fingers under your shirt.

“ _I want to serve you_.”

“Serve _me?_ ” you gaped, wide-eyed.

Aaravos cocked an eyebrow. “ _You sound surprised_.”

“I—I had thought—”

He smirked. “ _That it would be_ you _serving_ me? _Is that what you’d prefer?_ ”

You said nothing.

Aaravos chuckled again. “ _It seems, then, that what we both seek is a mutually beneficial arrangement, hmm?_ ”

“Being chained up in a dungeon is not exactly what I would call _beneficial_ ,” you said dryly.

Aaravos nodded. “ _You’re right._ ”

Viren snapped his fingers again and the other shackle fell away from your wrist.

“ _Happy?_ ”

It was your turn to smirk. “I’m getting there.”


	2. ii

You sat in front of the mirror and stared into that empty, opalescent room waiting for Aaravos to appear. Hours had passed since you'd last seen him, or maybe days. You weren't keeping track. The mirror consumed you, as did the deep purr of the elf's voice in your ear. You didn't feel exhaustion or hunger or thirst, only a burning curiosity in the back of your mind—and a desperation for more.

Viren had seemed to snap out of whatever trance Aaravos had put him under, and left you with the mirror. He had duties of state to attend to but promised to return. You shivered at the thought of Viren's hands on your waist, his lips against your throat, and all the while Aaravos watching you with those dark golden eyes. 

Finally, beyond the pane of the looking-glass, the door opened and Aaravos stepped into the room. He did not immediately acknowledge you. He had been reading, a heavy tome spread open in his hands. He snapped it shut and placed it reverently on its shelf with a quiet little smile curling his lips. 

His cloak, dark and embroidered with a strange pattern, kept him hidden, except for his elegant, long-fingered hands and his beautiful mouth. You longed to know what he looked like beneath the shroud. 

He turned to face you and you saw the corner of his mouth wrinkle with his trademark smirk. You straightened up, your heartbeat rising in your throat, and watched his swaggering gait as he crossed to the mirror and simply stared at you, amused and silent. He cocked an eyebrow at you and reached up to nudge the tip of his pointed ear, straining against his hood.

You fumbled for the strange worm that allowed you to hear that rich, resonant voice and set it on your ear with a little wince. Aaravos’ purring chuckle poured into you like hot, black ink. You felt your stomach twist in nervous anticipation. 

" _Have you nothing better to do than sit there and watch me?_ "

"Honestly?" you answered. "Not really." You gestured to the cold room around you. "I was living my life quite peacefully until you... _summoned_ me."

Aaravos’ eyes narrowed with impish delight. " _I believed you wanted more than a peaceful life. Was I wrong?_ "

"No..." Though you had spent a long time devouring everything you could on dark magic, on the treasures of the Dragon King, and on Aaravos, you still could not believe where you sat now, and to whom you spoke. It was surreal. 

" _What do you think about when you're waiting for me?_ "

You blushed. Aaravos chuckled again. Your whole body prickled with gooseflesh. 

" _I admit, I had no idea what other benefits an intermediary might bring to me_."

"It's.. odd."

" _You don't enjoy it?_ "

"I never said that." You averted your gaze. The feeling of Viren's weight pressing into you, his fingers curled tightly around you, his mouth and tongue on your bare flesh--but it hadn't been _Viren_ , not really. "It's just unusual. Does he... know?"

" _Is Lord Viren aware of how I use his body? Does he feel what I feel?_ "

You gave a shy little nod.

Aaravos grinned. " _Would you like him to? I can include him, next time, if you'd like. He's lonely, too. And tired. I think a tender touch would do him some good..._ "

"I'm sure the Regent has more important things to do than..."

" _Than you_? _"_

That made your cheeks hot. Aaravos purred low in his throat. " _I enjoy watching your skin colour like that. It tells me_ exactly _what you're thinking. Humans are so fun that way--nothing remains hidden from me._ "

You reached up to cover your cheeks with your hands. "I want to see you," you said in a quick rush.

He tilted his head to the side. A lock of his pale hair drifted across his eyes. " _See me?_ "

"Remove the cloak. Please. I just--I want to know what you look like."

" _Why?_ "

"I'm curious."

Aaravos smirked. He reached up to slowly unclasp the cloak at his throat and let it fall in a ripple to the floor. Beneath it, his arms were bare and his tunic was open to his navel. You could see his naked chest, that same rich celestial blue, and a bright star burning over his heart. He kept his gaze fixed on you as you let yours roam up and down his star-speckled arms. 

" _Are you pleased by what you see?_ "

"You're beautiful."

He hummed. It was a warm tickle in your ear. " _Aren't you sweet?_ "

You ached to slip your fingers into the neck of his tunic and feel his skin. You imagined it was warm and smooth, like it had been when you’d laid your hand to Viren’s cheek. You wanted to press your lips to every swirl of starlight on his body. You wanted to trail your tongue along the sweeping point of his ear and feel him shudder beneath you. 

" _You're thinking about it again, aren't you_? _Your cheeks are as pink as new milkfruit_."

"You must think about it, too," you said slowly. "You told me it had been a long time since you'd been touched..."

Aaravos’ breath was a low, rasping groan in your ear. " _Yes..._ "

"Well?"

He traced the frame of the mirror with his finger. " _There are certain things in our way._ "

"But Viren--"

" _Oh_." Aaravos grinned. " _I see you've warmed up to the idea of the three of us._ " He hummed. " _We must wait until he returns. Then, perhaps, you might know what the rest of my body looks like..._ " He replaced the cloak over his shoulders. " _I want to give you something_."

He moved to the back of the room, to the desk, and returned to you with what looked like a bell jar cradled in his hands. Inside, a single blue rose grew from a pot of dark soil. Aaravos removed the jar's lid, plucked the rose from its thorned stem, and crushed it inside his fist. When he opened his fingers again, a butterfly rested in his palm, fluttering its wings. He brought the butterfly to his lips, very softly, and then squeezed it in his fist again. 

You felt a light tickle against your palm. When you looked down, you saw the butterfly. It took flight, slow and stuttering, and landed on your lips. The brush of its wings was soft and tender, and you closed your eyes as the light touch deepened, and you felt another's hot breath on your cheek.

It was Aaravos, you realized, kissing you. 

He watched you, eyes fluttering shut, arching into the strange kiss, and then the phantom sensation lifted from your lips. The butterfly lay in your lap, dead. 

Aaravos reached up with one finger and brushed his mouth, as if catching the trace of your kiss on his lower lip. 

And you could have sworn you felt the light brush of his finger against your mouth too.


	3. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah yeah, I like my mages old and crippled with self-esteem issues, keep scrollin'

It had taken every mote of your persuasive power to get Viren into the hot spring. He'd given excuse after excuse, until you'd practically torn his clothes off and pushed him out of his chambers and into the balmy evening air. You could already see the effect the soothing water had on his aching leg: his face was slack, shoulders relaxed, as he reclined against the smooth stone lip of the pool. 

Taking the chance while his eyes were closed, you slipped into the water.

Viren snapped upright, startled out of some light doze by the sound of your limbs sinking beneath the water. 

"Do you mind if I join you?" you all but purred. 

The pink flush in his cheeks and down his chest darkened. "I--" He shifted away from you with an awkward little wince. "I'll just get out--"

"No," you said, gently laying a hand on his wrist as he reached for the edge of the pool, "stay. Stay here with me a moment." You paused. "What's wrong?" 

Viren raked a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back from his weary brow. "I..." He cleared his throat. "It's been a long time since I've been... nude... with someone else."

"We've been naked together before," you countered, but he shook his head.

"It's different. We're in bed, it's dark..." He sighed. "It's a ridiculous hang-up of mine."

"What is?"

He gestured to his half-submerged body and gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "I'm not a young man anymore and I was never one for... athleticism."

You bit at your lip. "Oh my. You're embarrassed?" 

"When you put it like that you make me sound like a vain _child."_

You giggled. "You are vain, Viren." You reached out to stroke the neat hair edging his jaw. "You're terribly vain, otherwise you wouldn't spend twenty minutes tidying _this_ every morning."

The tips of his ears began to burn pink. "I--"

You silenced him with a kiss, slow and coaxing, gently sliding your tongue against his as you pulled a deep moan from him. His hand came up to caress your jaw, then your throat, and moved lower still, brushing the soft shape of your breast as he grasped at your waist and pulled you close against him. 

"Lucky for you," you teased, pulling back a scant half-inch to nip at his lower lip and smirk, "I'm not nearly as vain as you are." 

"Of course not. You're beautiful," he said, brushing the line of his knuckles over your cheek with a soft fondness gleaming in his eyes. 

You swiped a bead of water from the end of his nose. "Does it help?" 

Viren rubbed at his thigh under the water. "A little." A sudden smile curled his lips. "Another kiss might help even more..."

You were more than happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO GLAD Y'ALL LIKE MY VERY SPECIFIC CONTENT.
> 
> all your comments are SO LOVELY, thank you!
> 
> if anyone wants to drop me a prompt, I'll see what I can do ;)


	4. iv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SPICY! >:)

Aaravos' chuckling laughter poured into your ear in rich, dark rivulets but when you opened your eyes, you saw Lord Viren leaning over you with a desperate and hungry expression. He touched your throat lightly, then bent his head to kiss your fluttering pulse. His tongue darted between his lips to taste the perfume of your skin.

" _It has been so long for Viren... He hasn't bedded anyone since his wife left. He's nervous. He wants so very badly to please you..."_

Aaravos' voice was like a tickle of hot breath against your cheek. It made you blush as Viren's eager kisses found your chest. His hand came up to your breast in a clumsy gesture, like he was a teenager touching a woman for the first time. You felt endeared by the stuttering motion of his fingers, by the way he kept glancing up to you from beneath his brows as if seeking your approval.

You stroked your fingers through his dark hair and parted your legs beneath his in gentle encouragement. His naked body pressed against yours as he shifted, awkwardly, and brought the fork of his thighs to rest against your hip. Getting him undressed had been a challenge; he was not a young man anymore, he'd said, though you were not entirely disappointed by what lay beneath his robes.

In your ear you heard the elf's breathless voice: " _You are just as soft and lovely as I'd imagined..."_

You turned your head to stare at the mirror which Viren had brought up from the dungeon. Behind the thin looking-glass, Aaravos watched you. His eyes gleamed, bright and avaricious, and his beautiful skin was flushed. He laid his palm to the edge of the mirror in silent longing as Viren slipped his hand between your legs and touched you for the first time. 

His fingers were like his kisses: unpracticed, a little slow, fumbling and stumbling to find a good rhythm. He watched your face with wide, dark eyes, hoping to see the little strains of pleasure tighten your expression. 

Suddenly, with the Regent's fingers knuckle-deep inside you, you gasped and arched and heard Aaravos' growling breath in your ear: " _How I wish it was my fingers inside you, bringing you such exquisite pleasure."_

He was slack-jawed beyond the smooth surface of the mirror, his eyes hooded with desire, his chest flushed all the way to his navel. You locked eyes with him just as Viren's fingers worked inside you and made something deep in your lower belly scream with delight. You moaned. Viren basked in the sound of it, begging you to moan for him again. 

He sank into your embrace with a desperate sigh, his hips rutting against your thigh as you felt him harden with need. You set a hand on his waist to steady him as you guided him to lie between your legs. It required some delicate shifting on his part, to find a position that didn't put undue strain on his old injury.

Finally you took his jaw in your hands and kissed him. He returned it eagerly, deeply, the unpracticed press of his mouth on yours easing into something softer and more tender. He shivered when you nipped at his throat. 

"Make me yours," you whispered against his ear, but your eyes were fixed on the mirror and on Aaravos.

The elf's answering smirk made you shiver.


End file.
